Your Wish
by Pepe Le Pew
Summary: Tsuna didn't know what Mukuro wanted, but he did know what he wanted.


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**I really don't have much to say. This was more like a practice run or something...I don't know. **

**Anyway, I don't own KHR, enjoy!**

Tsuna sat alone in the desolate ruins of the Vongola Manor. In some places the compound was still smoldering from the attack that had gone by.

He sat with the only remaining picture that had survived the attack, a relatively large square frame, which held a photo of each of his closest friends. He wasn't sure where Hibari was, in the picture the man was scowling like no one's business.

Haru and Kyoko were both in the ICU, and he wasn't sure exactly if they were going to make it. In their separate pictures they were grinning, each waving an Italian and Japanese flag during a sports game Ryohei had made them watch with him.

Gokudera was administered for a broken arm and leg – the least harmed of his guardians and friends. In the picture – he hadn't been aware of it being taken, courtesy of Haru – he was sitting with his glasses over his nose, a cigarette in his mouth and doing a mathematical equation.

Yamamoto was unconscious upon administration to the hospital, having received multitude of stab wounds. Yamamoto's picture was unsurprisingly of him on the pitch, playing baseball and slamming the ball straight into a homerun.

Ryohei…he wasn't sure where Ryohei was. The last he had seen the man he was bleeding form various wounds, his 'extreme' shouting fading. His picture was taken right after he won a boxing event. He had been shouting something about and 'extremely extreme' match.

Lambo, oh God…he didn't know where to begin with Lambo. The kid, the fifteen-year-old boy who shouldn't even be a part of this had nearly all his bones broken. He had grinned through his tears and told Tsuna he would be fine. He had bruises in place Tsuna didn't even know humans had places. There had been stab wound, burn wounds…God little Lambo was the worst off of them all.

He sniffled, in Lambo's picture he was crying. After one of his many attempts to kill Reborn, of course Reborn had shot him down again. As was usual.

Reborn. Reborn had been shot. A bullet wound to the shoulder if Tsuna remembered right. Oh and a deep cut over his side, but he had said he would be fine. He had treated himself and told Tsuna that he would come back from wherever he went. It had been the first time Reborn had hugged him and told him it would be ok and hadn't scolded him for sobbing like a child. He had nearly killed the man himself because he had thought Reborn was an imposter. Nearly because he could never even land a hit on Reborn. The Reborn in the picture was smirking; he was in his adult form, with his finger beneath his hat and smirking charmingly at Bianchi. Tsuna couldn't remember what the conversation had been about.

The pink haired woman had bombed half the attackers with her evil cooking, but somewhere along the line of the rain of acidic beverages had stopped. They haven't found a body yet, but Tsuna suspected she was dead. Not surprisingly, she was cooking in her picture, smiling happily for a change.

Chrome…

His head snapped up when he heard a sound. He knew it wasn't good for him to stay out here alone, he should've gone to the hospital with his family, but he hadn't been able to muster up the courage to do so.

Mukuro was walking towards him at a languid pace. Tsuna quickly set the picture aside and scrambled to his feet. He wasn't sure what it was, but something was different about Mukuro. The man was smirking in a sadistic sort of manner and with each step closer, Tsuna felt the urge to run.

The bicolor-eyed man stopped briefly at the bottom of the steps leading up to the ruined Vongola Manor and looked at Tsuna. "Any news?" he questioned softly.

Tsuna shook his head wildly and stepped back, towards the door not on its hinges anymore, when he stepped up. "No news at all?" Mukuro asked, the smirk never once leaving his face.

Between Hibari and Mukuro he wasn't sure whom he was supposed to be more afraid of.

Again he shook his head, hoping that he wouldn't bump into anything too soon. He side stepped the small showcase and cringed when his back connected with a broken, cracked wall. How unsightly of a Mafia boss to be afraid of his lackeys, Reborn would be very unhappy with him. He stared up at Mukuro, gazing into those eyes of his, when the man caged him in.

"Are you afraid?" the bastard actually bothered questioning.

Tsuna wanted to ask how he could ask such a stupid question. Tsuna, Tsuna was the only one of his Guardians not harmed, or maimed or…dead. Please, God, don't let any of them be dead.

He recoiled, his head slamming into the wall, when Mukuro's thumb brushed across his mouth. He suddenly found himself pulled into a tight embrace, Mukuro's hands holding him tightly to his chest. His hand pushed into Tsuna's hair and the other on his back. His warmth surrounded Tsuna, held him, tightened its embrace around him and he sagged, pressing into the hug and clenching at the back of Mukuro's jacket.

He knew, he knew Mukuro was playing with him.

"What is it you want, Tsuna?" the man whispered.

Tsuna's hand tightened in the back of his jacket even more. "I want them dead. I want them to suffer. I want them to scream. I want them to beg. I want them to plead. I want them to die." He whispered. "I want them to die painfully."

His eyes closed when Mukuro pressed his mouth to his in a demanding, controlling kiss that took his breath away. The Illusionist was chuckling into his mouth, whether because of his words or his passionate response, Tsuna wasn't sure.

Mukuro pulled back, licking Tsuna's lips one last time before pressing his forehead against the younger male's.

"Your wish is my command."

**EDIT 18/01/11: Big thanks to Fayah for picking up a mistake I made and helping me with it!**

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